Blessed
by La Sacre Ensorceleurse
Summary: Takes place during the fifth book. Hogwarts gets a strange visitor at the begining of the year. As new friendships arise, one can't help but wonder if he will be able to help defet the Dark Lord.
1. Chapter 1

_I'm finally here. Home. _

Stepping into the great hall, I followed Ron and Hermione over to the Gryffindor table. Looking around I took in the faces of all my friends, every last one. I hated summer, it took me away from them; from all this! If I had it my way I'd never leave here again.

"Who's _that_?" Hermione said sharply, pointing towards the middle of the staff table. Following her gaze, I could tell mine eyes lit up when they landed on Dumbledore, sitting in his high-backed golden chair at the centre of the long staff table, wearing the usual deep-purple robes with scattered s=silver stars and matching hat. His head was inclined towards the woman next to him, who was whispering something into his ear. I had to bight down on the inside of my mouth to stop myself from laughing like a lunatic. She looked like someone's old maiden aunt. Squat, with short, curly, mouse-brown hair in which she had placed the most horrible Alice hat on her head. It was a foul pink colour, if one could even call it that. Worse than that, she wore a matching cardigan over her robes. When she turned to take a sip form her goblet, I could clearly see her pallid toad like face with a pair of prominent pouty eyes.

"It's that Umbridge woman; she was at my hearing, she works for Fudge!"

"Nice cardigan," Ron snickered, and despite myself I couldn't help but chuckle too. With a sharp kick from Hermione, both Ron and I lunched backwards letting out a muffled 'Awe'. Before either of us could reply, the doors from the Entrance Hall opened. Led by Professor McGonagall, who was carrying a stool on which sat an ancient wizard's hat, heavily patched and darned with a wide rip near the frayed brim, came in a long line of scared-looking first years.

One of the boys in the middle looked as if he were trembling. I couldn't help but remember my first time stepping into this hall, waiting to get over the test which would sort everyone into their destined Houses. It was terrifying. The Hat sang his song, and when he finished and once again became motionless, applause broke out through the Great Hall. This year's song was odd, usually the Hat simple stated the qualities one needed to enter each House, but this year it gave some form of advice. Although I still couldn't figure out quiet exactly what it was.

The sorting begun. As the list went on, the first years thinned out. Finally, when 'Zeller, Rose' was placed in Hufflepuff, Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet, arms outstretched and merely said; "Tuck in." Laughter broke out as each of the empty platters filled with assortments of food. As Ron and Hermione carried on their daily argument, I started to pick at my steak and kidney pie, making sure to leave from for some treacle tart.

***

"Well, now that we have digested another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices." Dumbledore began, taking the podium placed at the front of the small stage. "First years ought to know that the Forest in the grounds is out of bounds to all students-and a few of our older students should know this by now too." Hermione, Ron and myself all attempted to hide a smirk, however failing miserable.

"Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has asked me for the four-hundredth and sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is strictly forbidden within the corridors in between classes. As well as a number of other rules which can be found posted on the door to his office.

"We have two changes in staff this semester, I am pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking care of the Care for Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to welcome Professor Umbridge, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

There was a round of polite but fairly unenthusiastic applause, during which a number of students; mainly Gryffindors shared slightly panicked looks. Dumbledore did not mention how long Grubbly-Plank wound be teaching. "Tryouts for the house Quidditch teams will take place on the-" He broke off, looking strangely at Professor Umbridge, who had arisen from her seat and cleared her throat, _"hem, hem,"_ and it was made clear that she intended on making a speak herself.

"Thank you, Headmaster, for those kind words of welcome." Her voice was high-pitched and shrill, almost girl-like. "Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say! And to see such happy faces looking up at me." Glancing around I couldn't find a single 'happy' face anywhere but one her, which revealed sharp, rather pointy teeth. In fact most of the students were taken back as being addressed as five year olds.

"I am very looking forward to getting to know you all and I'm sure we'll all become dear friends. The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts you with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured an honed with careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the wizarding community must be passed down the generations or else lose them forever. The magical knowledge of our ancestors must by guarded and guided, replenished and polished by those chosen few of the noble profession of teaching. As such, progress for progress's sake must not be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance than, between old and new must be found. Therefore, prefect what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practises need to be prohibited." Saying no more, Umbridge returned to her seat.

Dumbledore clapped, while the staff first followed his lead and so did a select few of the students. "Thank you Professor, that was most illuminating. Now as I was saying, tryouts will be held..."

"Yes, that was illuminating," Hermione said in a low voice.

"Come on you can't actually mean you enjoyed it. That was the dullest speech I've ever heard. And I grew up with Percy." At this point Ron's face was glazing.

"I said illuminating, not enjoyable. It explained a lot. Like: '_progress for progress's sake discouraged'_ or _'pruning wherever practice need to be prohibited'_."

"Yah, but what does it mean?" I enquired.

"It means the Ministry is interfering at Hogwarts."

***

"One final announcement before you all eagerly head of to bed. For the first time in the history of this school, we have with us a transfer to the fifth year here at Hogwarts. Our guest has never before attended a school of witchcraft or wizardry, and I am sure despite his somewhat distance appearance his is on a whole, overwhelmed."

Murmurs went through the crowds, each asking questions to their neighbour wither or not they know what this was about.

"As I'm sure you all know, there are things within this word which cannot, for any reason be explained. The origin of our new friend is as such; born in 1762, at the rise of Catherine the Great, a strange creature entered the world through some form of miracle. However, like most things unknown, he was persecuted and forced into hiding like our own kind, out of fear of being burned. He has, I am pleased to say lived up till now and from this point in time will remain a resident of Hogwarts Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry. With my deepest respects, I introduce to you our new friend from the harsh, cold plains of Imperial Russia, Hedeon Sidorov."

With that the doors to the Great Hall creaked slowly open. From his age one would have expected to see another Dumbledore step through the archway. But when a thick head of dark brown, chocolate hair stepped through the door jaws dropped, especially from the female population. Flowing in waves just past his earlobes, dark locks seemed to bounce with ever step he took with his tightly laced boots. I wouldn't have expected to ever see someone like him wear the clothes he did, but for some reason he could pull them off. Jeans hugged up against his skin, ripped around the knees. A simple long-sleeved, black shirt had been rolled up to his elbows showing off a couple of bracelets which clanged as he advanced. Multiple belts hung from his waist, all of which were placed over his sweater. Although his upper face was covered in a shadow, I could tell he was quiet pale. When he passed by a sudden coldness swept by as well, as if he cared all of Russia's icy cold within him.

When he finally reached the platform, I saw that the teachers too were dazed. Dumbledore offered him his hand as the mysterious boy climbed the first step, he gladly took it. "Now my dear boy, if you would be so kind."

_Be so kind...as to what? What was he suppose to do? _What happened next knocked the breath out of everyone. Without even flinching, hug black wings sprung out of his back. They had to expand at least six feet across, even when not fully expanded. "An angel is within our mists. And I believe in time to come we will be blessed, as will he; for there is no true place within the world for one such as he."


	2. Chapter 2

There was a great clatter and banging which echoed throughout the Great Hall as Dumbledore dismissed his students for the night. As each of the enormous tables slowly became empty, I remained on my perch near the large stained-glass windows at the rear of the hall. It had been different here, but than what had I expected? Pitch forks and torches combined with cries of beheading and burning at the stake? No....there weren't ones who could pass those judgement on me.

Yes they would stare for God knows how long, that however was to be expected of them. No one could blame them for that. I wouldn't.

"Might I have a word with you Mr. Sidorov?"

Glancing downwards, a tall, rather severe-looking woman stood directly below me. Jumping down from the windowsill I landed in front of her with a small 'thud'. Behind her square-framed glasses, I could see she was both startled and unimpressed by my sudden leap.

"MinervaMcGonagall, Transfiguration professor."

"Hedeon Sidorov, son to the late ElizavetaRomanovnaVorontsova."

Taking her hand in my own, I could feel her wince. When we finally parted she withdrew into the folds of her emerald robes and pulled out a small scroll.

"The Headmaster has asked me to deliver this to you, he would have done so himself, but as I'm sure you are aware he is a terrible busy man. He has informed me that this is a list of the classes offered here at Hogwarts, and that he believes it is within your interest to take part in them if you so wish. Also, I believe the directions to your room are in there as well."

"Thank you, Professor. I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

Bowing slightly, I made my way out of hall and began to search for my room.

***

The next morning, students bustled quickly into the Great Hall. I hadn't bothered to stay long, only for a moment or so to see if anything worth wild was going on. I had taken to walking the ground for most of the morning. Extensive grounds with sloping lawns, flowerbeds and vegetable patches, a loch, a large dense forest went as far as the eye could see. Scattered about were a number of greenhouses and other outbuilding which I assumed where used for storage. It was beautiful.

And yet it seems so foreign and ugly at the same time. It could never compare to the large, sparkling forests and plains of Russia. Or the circus like domes of St. Basil's cathedral in my beloved Moscow. So, after aimlessly wondering for hours, I decided to make my way to the first class Dumbledore's list: Divination.


End file.
